


Ancré et Lié

by That_brunette_in_red



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Tragedy, Dark, Dark Will Graham, Everyone Is Gay, Gay Sex, Hannibal Lecter is Whipped, Hannibal is a simp, Headcanon, I'm Sorry, Licking, M/M, Metaphors, Mind Manipulation, Murder-Suicide, POV Third Person Omniscient, Possessive Hannibal Lecter, Shameless Smut, Slow To Update, Smut, Someone Help Will Graham, Tags Contain Spoilers, Will Graham is So Done, major character deaths, no happy ending, will graham does top at one point
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:47:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28200102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/That_brunette_in_red/pseuds/That_brunette_in_red
Summary: "You've survived drowning thus far; why do you think that is?""You are... my anchor, Doctor Lecter. You're simultaneously saving me and ensuring my demise."////After pulling them both from the cliff, Will wrestles with accepting truly who he is.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Kudos: 1





	1. Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> Shooting for 30,000 words, which would be the longest fic I've ever written. This will focus on Dark Will Graham and his becoming. Hannibal Lecter is a simp hopelessly in love; this does crop up quite often. Warnings for this story: thoughts of self-harm, murder-suicide, graphic violence, smut, and manipulation. Further details in the introduction! **I do not condone the actions of these characters!**

Hello, welcome, this won't be a long spiel -- just here to state warnings and general headcanons!

Firstly, this is my first real Hannigram fic so apologies if I get a characterisation wrong. Second, this will pull directly from the NBC Hannibal show released in 2013-2015, with characters depicted after the actors Mads Mikkelsen and Hugh Dancy. 

Warnings: this story contains graphic violence and sexual themes, and major character deaths. This is no fairytale I'm writing. 

And that's it! I don't condone the actions of these characters obviously murder and cannibalism is bad and so is manipulation and all that fun stuff the boys do.


	2. Vin rouge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Blurred into one whole creature, the thought came automatically to Will's perturbed mind. Working as one, conjoined as one as if a hydra with two heads. Not exactly Frankenstein, crafting a horrifying beast of both beauty and spare parts. Something from Greek myth, men and monster; Achilles and Patroclus united at last._
> 
> ////
> 
> After falling from the cliff, Will and Hannibal start the journey toward a new life together.

It was the sound of the ocean that brought Will Graham back from the edge.

The salt was heavy on his eyebrows, in his hair, bespeckling his beard with flecks of white that suggested an age he wasn't but certainly felt. Sand was coarse against his bared skin; the sting of salt in the gash through his cheek brought a hiss through his gritted teeth as he slowly pushed himself up, gripping his wounded shoulder. Besides the weariness of fighting for his life and getting battered by unrelenting water, he was okay.

The roaring of the waves against deadly rock was a constant reminder of what they had narrowly avoided; Will idly watched the gentler waves beat against the pebbled beach they had collapsed onto. He convinced himself he could almost, almost see Hannibal's home from here.

The very thought of his name seemed to summon the devil himself: Hannibal Lecter was pushing himself from the sand, breathing raggedly and staring at Will in such a way he hadn't seen before.

"Hannibal..?" Will stared back, still bleary, blinking to focus. 

"Well," Hannibal coughed, clutching his stomach loosely, "I never thought I would take 'falling for someone' as seriously as you." He studied Will a moment, panting, before Will dragged himself toward him, shakily standing before hauling Hannibal to his feet.

"Are you hurt? Will?"

The air seemed both too empty and so bountiful Will had trouble breathing either way. The thought of what they had done -- what they were now intent on doing -- made his mind whirl as if he were still falling hundreds of feet to his sure demise. He could be, he'd be none the wiser; those few seconds between life and death can stretch like hours. Perhaps he is still falling and waiting for the collision that will never come.

"Will." Hannibal's quiet and strained voice somehow remained powerful enough to tempt Will from the recesses of his mind, looking up with a sickening jolt. He was still clutching Hannibal -- how much time had passed between his thoughts and Hannibal's question?

Mouth dry, he forced himself to spit out, "Yes, I..." He shook his head, and Hannibal continued urgently.

"You expected us both to be lost to the sea?" Hannibal's indiscutable gaze was locked on his face, yet Will knew he didn't have the brain capacity to meet his bloodied eyes. Not until Hannibal's hands curled around Will's own, pressed to his heaving chest, clutching at him like a lifeline.

"I -- " Will's voice was a murmur. "I had... hoped." He blinked, then, looking down at Hannibal's stomach, fresh blood dulling the grey material a dark brownish maroon -- he must be in agony, but the only difference from before and after was his shaky breathing.

"After all this time, Will, you still manage to surprise me," Hannibal breathed his praise as he gripped him for support, taking him in as if it were the first time again.

Then Will laughed, breathlessly, giddy and spiraling and was he delirious? God, he was losing his mind, but Hannibal Lecter was staring at him like he'd hung the moon and Will was _still_ holding onto him. 

Maybe that was just fine, for now. 

"We should move," Hannibal breathed, bringing Will violently to reality as he released him, nodding once.

The car was waiting for them as they stumbled up the beach, near leaning on each other for support. Will shrugged off his suspicion of _where the hell did he procure this_ with a sigh as Hannibal slid carefully into the driver's seat, opening Will's door from the inside -- _Going my way?_

Will hesitated half a second and joined him; closing the door, he felt as if another door had closed on him with a hollowed thud that shook his bones with the realization that he had undoubtedly, honestly made his choice; it was Hannibal, whom he'd declared his life for.

His death for.

"Will?" 

Hannibal's voice was characteristically soft but now with something unspoken -- startled by the difference, Will looked at him, and caught sight of possibly the most heart-wrenching smile on Hannibal's face. Will was struck speechless. "Will you stay with me?" 

"Stay with you," he uttered, raising an eyebrow and meeting his smile with a small one of his own. "We're... bound, aren't we? Fates assured in each other." 

Hannibal tilted his head, savouring the words as he brought the car to life. "Bound together, anchored to one another."

"I go down, you come down with me." Will's casual teasing drawl was back and Hannibal's eyes were bright and warm. 

"Always." A quick, flitting glance, then Hannibal added, "Do you have any concerns? I might change my mind, kill you now."

Will looked amused, folding an arm carefully over his wounded one. The pain had dulled to an aching thud that he forced himself to be comfortable with. "You're not going to kill me, Hannibal. Not until you can eat me," he echoed, Bedelia's words ringing through his head. As an afterthought, brief, he wondered the fate she truly deserved and if it should be them to give it to her.

"And me?"

"You?" Will repeated, raising an eyebrow. He saw Hannibal's brief annoyance in the flex of his hands; he smiled. "Does it matter?"

Hannibal smiled then. "I should know if you're going to make an attempt on my life. Again." 

"I never took an action directly on your life," Will pointed out and Hannibal exhaled softly which read as loudly as if he'd scoffed aloud. 

"You were hiding behind the gun." He pursed his lips, merging onto the highway smoothly, seeing only the echo of this conversation happening as if it were another lifetime. "If it comes down to it again, Will, I'd expect something different." 

"Intimate," Will said, studying him. Hannibal took his eyes from the road, briefly, to meet Will's. 

"Yes."

The car pulled carefully onto the road and took off in the opposite direction of the house. Will eyed Hannibal, the tightness of his shoulders, the purse of his lips -- concerned, hiding it extremely well, yet still, Will had become quite perceptive when it came to Hannibal and his many façades of emotion.

"Where are we going?"

"Would you trust that it's a surprise you would like?" 

Will shot him a look, clearly reminded of his last _surprise;_ of all sins he had forgiven Hannibal of, that was one that haunted him still, knew it would continue to haunt them both for the rest of their lives when he met Hannibal's gaze. Instead of the many biting remarks resting on Will's silver tongue, he said, "I trust in your ability to make us disappear."

"Good." He spared him a smile before they continued down the road in silence. 

Will wondered, idly, what the plan was. In all truth he hadn't expected them to survive the initial fall, or the shock, or the copious blood loss; they remained stronger together than he would've imagined, feeding off of the other, always each other's rock and foundation.

It was no longer Will Graham chasing the Chesapeake Ripper, it was no longer Hannibal Lecter staring through the veil without touching -- it was Will and Hannibal as the beast from the deep until God Himself took them down.

He remembered as if it were that morning the conversation he had shared with Hannibal on the very topic; one of the many times he tried to convince himself that Hannibal's obvious affection was in his imagination. The fabled story of Patroclus and Achilles, rewritten to suit their needs. Hannibal was a man of myth and legend and thus enjoyed rewriting the classics so that the two of them would remain victorious in the shadows of his mind palace, together still. 

////

Will waited impatiently while Hannibal perused the aisles of the small convenience store, fingers dancing over packages. Will flicked the radio on and squinted in the bright sunlight. It was almost... comical, he realised dryly, it was as if they were taking a casual road trip and _weren't_ on the lam from the law and Jack's reach.

He absently cupped his still throbbing cheek, tongue brushing lightly over the hole in his skin with a wince and a frown. Will's scars were growing numerous, he would be covered in them inside and out; more scar tissue in invisible places, his mind, his very being, places where only he knew how to find them -- well, him and Hannibal. Their love language was written in blood, gifts traded in wounds and unspeakable pain; unable to pull apart and relishing every second they existed in each other's atmospheres. 

The very strength of the Dragon had surprised him. Physically, Will had been smaller, but faster -- he didn't like to think what would have happened if the Dragon had been able to fulfill his promise to break Will's spine, if Will had just been a little bit slower. The imagery of cartilage and bone snapping thunderously, his spine jolting forward and a seeping numbness made him shift uncomfortably in his seat, raise a shaky hand to massage his tired eyes. 

He barely registered the faint jingle of the door as Hannibal emerged with supplies, looking haggard and worn, the noticeable clunk of the car door being wrenched open. 

Will blinked into focus as the last of Un-Break My Heart petered out. Hannibal had turned the radio down from blaring to somehow manageable; Will hadn't realised how loud it had been playing. When he looked over Hannibal was studying him, not uncommon, unsure if he should look amused or concerned by the music choice. Before Hannibal could comment Will was taking the items from his arms to tuck into the back seat.

"You took your time," he finally said as Hannibal slid carefully into the driver's seat. Will eyed the wound in his stomach warily; how Hannibal was still conscious was beyond Will's understanding. Hannibal himself seemed more concerned with getting as much distance between them and Baltimore as possible; the engine sputtered to life and they were once more on their way.

"Worried I would leave you?" Hannibal finally quipped.

"I'm not afraid of that, Doctor Lecter." He looked quickly at him, amusement written on his face. "You're still -- impossibly -- here."

Hannibal's smile was small and self-satisfied as worn hands shifted to get a better handle on the wheel, relaxed on the worn leather. 

Will would never admit it but he would be willing to study those hands all day until he knew every gentle curve, vein and inch of skin as well as his own. Sometimes, it felt as if he already did in regards to him and Hannibal. _Blurred into one whole creature,_ the thought came automatically to Will's perturbed mind. _Working as one, conjoined as one as if a hydra with two heads. Not exactly Frankenstein, crafting a horrifying beast of both beauty and spare parts. Something from Greek myth, men and monster; Achilles and Patroclus united at last._

"And I will be," Hannibal's voice cut in, sparing him a bemused glance, "as long as you will take me."

"I'll take you any way you come, Hannibal," came the words spilling from his lips before he could halt them, immediately regretting it as Hannibal's maroon eyes flickered red in the glare of the sunlight, gleaming with a certain something Will didn't know if he appreciated or not.

Will looked down, refusing to meet his piercing gaze. "You know I chose you," he added unnecessarily, to cover up his wording from before.

"I never understood the idea of regretting what's already spoken." Will cringed at how forward the doctor was, addressing the point instead of dancing around it, a clumsy two-step Will had danced his whole life.

"Imagine, um, you throw a rock into a pond," Will said, speaking, again, without thinking, as he was wont to do. "The rock, the words disappear but the effect... " He trailed off, gesturing vaguely what he meant before his hand came to rest once more on his lap. "Carries on out toward the shore."

Hannibal took this metaphor with no comment, a simple tilt of his head. Of course, because Hannibal Lecter always got the last word in, he finally added, "You remind me of that rock, Will. Boundless, diving into the unknown, and the after-effect is a beautiful thing designed."

"Do I drown in this analogy?"

Hannibal looked amused, tilted his head as if considering the answer he already knew. "I would never let you drown, Will."

"No," Will agreed, glancing out the window at the fast-moving scenery. "Just waterlog me enough to tempt it."

Sitting in a stifling yet very familiar silence was normally okay, but apparently Hannibal hadn't quite made his point, because he readjusted and asked, "Do you have many regrets with what you've done?"

Will glanced at him briefly. The unspoken words, _what we've done, run away together,_ passed silently between them both. Hannibal wasn't looking at him, but making a point of it -- too obviously. The veil had slipped from his eyes; Will swore he saw a flash of worry before the human mask was once again carefully slid back into place. 

"No. Not anymore, no," he added, remembering a conversation exactly like this one. "I... traded in the quiet of the stream for a raging ocean. I'm not afraid of suffering those consequences." He kept a steady glance out the window and passing foliage. "And you've done the same."

Hannibal nodded his agreement.

////

Hours passed slowly; when Will glanced over at Hannibal, noting the drooping eyes and still tensed muscles, he twisted in his seat to face him.

"Hannibal, pull over." Will's voice was quiet, but firm -- he didn't trust the pale colour to Hannibal's cheeks. A tired glance, and Hannibal did so. When he exited the car at Will's request he made an effort to move smoothly, as he'd always done, but the slight stumble in his step gave him away. Will hoped they had enough time to afford this pit stop; Jack and the boys in blue surely were only hours behind them by now. The sooner they got across the border, the better. 

Kneeling beside the doctor, Will was momentarily frozen in place and was brought violently back to a time with Abigail, twice struggling to save her life. He recalled the overwhelming copper smell, the screams in the air and the gagging, stifling hot pain of a neck sliced open and weeping into his hands. 

He took a steadying breath and focused.

"Might want to bite down on something," Will murmured as he addressed the bullet wound. Hastily, his eyes flickered to Hannibal's, a grim and amused smile lifting the corner of his mouth. "Or maybe don't, considering your track record."

"You're awfully chipper," Hannibal breathed as he watched Will work, hands steady from years of practiced fly fishing -- delicate movements that required focus. Will Graham was not a jumpy man; something Hannibal was grateful for, especially now. "Enjoy being on the other side of the glass?"

"Not the one getting a bullet dug out of me?" Will interpreted with his false smile that Hannibal always considered more a grimace than anything. "Oh, immensely."

"You enjoy -- seeing me suffer," Hannibal hissed the words as Will extracted the bullet, holding onto his shoulder to steady him, or comfort him. Will's face broke into a small grin as he shook his head no, pursing his lips. 

"Every Devil gets his due," he said slowly. "But... I don't want you to _suffer,_ Hannibal," he said in a tone that suggested he was offended at the very idea. Hannibal lifted an eyebrow, briefly, and decided to lapse into a comfortable silence, obviously having accepted his answer. That was good enough for Will: there were only so many philosophical quips he had mentally prepared himself for.

////

Will only allowed himself a moment to catch his breath once Hannibal seemed okay enough to hit the road once more, free hand loose over the bandage carefully placed over where he'd been shot. The radio sang quietly, some song Will didn't recognize but appreciated nonetheless as he closed his eyes, drifting and asleep before he knew it.

"Will?" 

It had gone silent for too long; Hannibal glanced over to see his head bowed against the window, motionless.

His hands tightened on the wheel, pursed his lips, tried to focus on the road instead. Hannibal was beginning to see that he had gotten exactly what he'd wanted for five years -- Will Graham by his side, visible and seeing and _there._

That was an intimidating notion.

Hannibal saw endless opportunities and often could visualize their outcomes, but not now. Will had taken those thin red lines and effortlessly tangled them, bound Hannibal to blindness. The future was unknown, and there was a thrill in that. He told himself he could not see, didn't admit to himself that maybe he simply didn't want to see.

An imperceptible sigh of agitation left him: he clenched his jaw, allowed himself a rare moment of uncertainty he would mask under any other situation. Not that it mattered, now, Will _saw_ him regardless of what action he did to hide it. 

He remained raw and exposed, put on display like one of their many victims, flayed alive -- and Hannibal would have drowned in the feeling if he could. There was an indecency in that, he supposed, but sometimes when it came to him and Will Graham indecency was what they were due.

He was pleased, enormously so, of course he was -- now only worried they might have bitten off more than they could chew. Glancing at Will again, assuring himself he was still there, Hannibal's mind was calmed, and he relaxed into the drive best he could.

////

"Toronto?" Will finally spoke up once they were half an hour across the border, miraculously. Will was amazed they had been accepted at all despite being very obviously some sort of fugitive -- hidden wounds and lies written in their tired glances, Hannibal speaking as calmly as ever and Will trying to look normal.

The scenery had remained more or less the same. Will would've questioned the location but he'd long since learned that it was easier to go along with whatever inane scheme Hannibal cooked up. "Was this the surprise?" he added, lifting an eyebrow.

"Canada has beautiful fishing spots," Hannibal said in response, that teasing smile resting once more on his face as he flexed his hands on the wheel. Will, incredulous, huffed a laugh and rubbed his weary eyes.

"Even still you promise me fishing? I'm flattered."

Hannibal made a sound like a chuckle, looking pleased. "Anything, Will."

////

Will didn't know much about Canada -- plentiful forests, oceans, beautiful scenery and an air of distrust he was surprised by whenever the topic of their neighboring country came up. He wasn't sure what he expected, maybe just Michigan but colder.

The car rolled to a crunching stop; Will looked around to see trees and a lakeview, unlike what he had been expecting of a busy city. Hannibal glanced around the area, dropping his hands to his hips, and Will stepped out to join him. There they stood, side by side, eyes cast to the blue sky and a future they had only dreamed of having, now real, tangible. 

Hannibal smiled over at Will, knuckles brushing Will's own as he dropped his hands, almost touching -- and Will's hand closed over Hannibal's.

"Well," Will murmured, breathing in the crisp air and the comforting feeling of Hannibal's warm hand clutching his own, as if afraid he's going to fall from his grasp again. "Welcome home."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Howdy y'all -- sorry about the delay but I wanted this to be as good as I could make it! The story does pick up so lemme know what you think, I'd really appreciate it! :)


End file.
